Everlasting
by papillon2
Summary: Short story written when the English dub of the S season premiered, about the Amara/Michelle relationship


So, the S dub is unfolding before us, with the new twists and turns that  
dubbies are now going to be stuck with in their continuity. But I haven't  
seen anyone try to tackle it yet, so I'm going to make a stab - and  
remember, I'm in England atm and HAVE NOT SEEN the dub, my details are based  
on comments from afsm only. Always look on the bright side and think of the  
*possibilities* offered by the mistakes/changes... Oh, and the title is a   
possible translation of "Amara" - the other possible translation only adds  
to the irony if you know it.  
Everlasting  
  
---  
Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to be as fast as the wind. My  
greatest wish was to fly beyond the sky, to let the wind carry me away to  
new worlds, new adventures, new experiences, a new destiny. Anything to  
avoid the fate that had been placed on me. I knew, even as a child too young  
to love I knew, that my world was not what was meant to be. I simply didn't  
realise what was wrong - not until later.  
  
I wrap the scarf around my neck and mouth before settling the helmet into  
place. Never overlook safety. Even when you're thinking about driving off  
the edge.   
  
Michelle. Close as a second self, my partner. I remember when we were just  
tiny things, dressing up in our respective parents' clothing, staging mock  
weddings, swearing we'd never be parted. And our parents just laughed and  
thought it was cute. Until we got a little older, that is. My father,  
flushed and fidgeting, trying to find out if our relationship was  
'inappropriate' without actually having to say the hurtful words. Trying to  
find out if my choice of clothing meant that I was more a son to him than a  
daughter.  
  
The motorcycle purrs responsively under me and I speed through the streets.  
  
We hadn't done anything much. A bit of kissing and fooling around - it's  
actually more common among cousins than you would think. I'm sure it was all  
just another childish game to her, nothing serious, but with my father's  
accusations and warnings in my ears I shut her out of my life. I knew then  
what was wrong with my world. My partner, my soulmate, my second self -  
through accident of birth was my *family*, and I could never touch her.  
  
The air smells like rain.  
  
You think you can understand it now, seeing her as she is, beautiful,  
talented, accomplished. She's had her share of boyfriends and if she hangs  
back from social situations, it's more because she's tired of dazzling  
people than anything else. But I loved her when she was just a little girl  
climbing trees with me, skinning her knees and splashing in the mud. I would  
marry her. I would bear - or sire - her children. And she's my goddamned  
cousin.   
  
Mist has turned into a gentle sprinkling, and I seek refuge in a little  
cafe. The first half-hour after the rain starts is the most dangerous time  
on the road. The water hasn't sunk in yet and the surfaces are slippery.   
  
The helmet and my damp scarf are piled up on the table next to me while I  
look blankly over the menu. A cute ponytailed waitress shows up to take my  
order. "Coffee," I say. It's traditional, isn't it? Tough-guy,  
depressed-guy, either taking coffee black or getting drunk, and I'm not that  
far gone. Yet.  
  
I don't remember all the details of the Silver Millenium. Hell, maybe we  
were all sisters serving the Moon Queen or something. Maybe I'm the one  
that's wrong, feeling the way I do.   
  
A cup slides itself onto my table. "Hey, Amara," says the waitress. I blink  
at her, suddenly recognising Elizabeth - Lizzie. "My shift ends in a few,"  
she continues. "Can I get a lift home?"  
  
"It's wet out, and I'm on a bike," I point out.   
  
She grins cutely at me. "That's okay. I don't mind getting wet."  
  
And I can't help but smile back at her. "Okay."  
  
Sweet girl. I'm glad we didn't damage her heart crystal. "I'd hate to break  
your heart," I murmur to myself before I can stop. She was on her way to  
another table, I don't think she heard me. Of course, Michelle could hear a  
sour note at ten yards, but she...  
  
Oh, God, Michelle, why did you have to be born my cousin? And when will I be  
able to look at another woman without thinking of you? 


End file.
